


The Grey of Early Afternoon

by LokoteiBex



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, New Dream Week (Disney), New Dream Week 2020 (Disney), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, When you're so much of a drama queen that you remind your wife of the woman who kidnapped her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokoteiBex/pseuds/LokoteiBex
Summary: Eugene was at her side in an instant, kneeling at her feet and looking up at her beseechingly. “Rapunzel, what did I say?” he coaxed. “What did I do? How can I fix this?” He needed to get to the bottom of her strained emotions.“Nothing…” she mumbled, her voice catching around the lump in her throat. “You didn’t do anything…”“But…?”“It’s just that…” She hesitated to say it. She’d never ever wanted to compare the two of them. Hell, she’d spent the past five years actively listing the ways in which they were different! “… Gothel…” she finally managed.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 14
Kudos: 101





	The Grey of Early Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Today I received an anonymous ask on my Tumblr blog about the idea that Rapunzel would be uncomfortable with Eugene's vanity, because of how Gothel was. The fact of the matter is, I'd been thinking the same thing for a long time. I even made the following meme:
> 
> What she says: lol Eugene is such a queen about his looks, I bet he'll freak out the instant he finds a grey hair or wrinkle.  
> What she means: Look, I'm really glad that Eugene has such a meticulous skin-and-hair regiment, but I'm honestly terrified that he WILL freak out at the first sign of "looking old" and that him freaking out will literally trigger Rapunzel, because she spent the first eighteen years of her life being abused by a woman who wanted nothing more than eternal youth and used Rapunzel to get it. Him freaking out about aging will make Rapunzel feel like she's failed him somehow, or like she's helpless to keep him from dying again, and I really, REALLY don't want that for her.
> 
> Between that ask, this meme, and the fact that today's New Dream Appreciation Week prompt is Hurt/Comfort, I came up with this...

A strangled gasp pulled Rapunzel from her book (difficult to do, because it was a book about internal combustion engines, and between Varian and her own interest, the topic had been on her mind a lot lately and she was very engrossed in the book).

But it was Eugene’s gasp. His extra-dramatic one, which meant that any moment now, he was going to come bursting into the bedroom from the adjoining bathroom to bombastically describe what the problem was.

She knew him well.

“Ra _pun_ zel!” he squawked as he flung himself through the door. It looked like he was holding something, but for the life of her, Rapunzel couldn’t see what it was. She marked her place in her book and set it aside, knowing she wasn’t going to be having a short conversation. With a crooked smile, an eye-roll, and a slight shake of her head, she addressed her husband.

“Yes, Eugene? You have my full attention.”

“ _Look!_ ” he insisted, bringing the invisible thing to her. Even once it was directly in front of her face, it took Rapunzel’s eyes a few moments to focus on it.

“… A hair?” she hedged. She would think that, after everything they’d been through, hair would no longer be a shocking topic of conversation.

“Not just a hair!” he bemoaned, and waved his pinched fingers around dramatically. “A _grey_ hair!”

Instantly, Rapunzel felt like she was being sucked back through time. The walls closed in on her, and the brightly painted room was no longer in Corona Palace, but in the tower.

_“A grey hair, Rapunzel, look!” Gothel’s voice rang. “I need you to sing for mummy, my flower. Wash this grey away with your golden voice. You want us to be together forever, don’t you?”_

The young woman froze, staring at Eugene as his melodramatic gesticulations became a cruel shadow of the woman who’d imprisoned her for so many years.

“– can’t believe it’s come to this! _Grey hair!_ Slain in the prime of my life by a strand of silver!”

Rapunzel hadn’t even realized that she’d started hyperventilating, gripping the arm of the chair in a white-knuckled grip. Everything Eugene was saying, she could swear she’d heard Gothel say at some point.

“ _ **Eu** gene!_” she finally barked at him, having to yell to keep from shutting down entirely. “ _You’re **twenty-eight!**_ ”

It was Eugene’s turn to freeze and stare, shocked and baffled by her tone. It was entirely unlike Rapunzel to go from calm to yelling in nothing flat. Had something happened? Had he missed some silent cue? “I know, Sunshine,” he answered, his own voice suddenly much more calm and cautious. “I only meant that…”

“ _A grey hair is no big deal!_ ” she continued, cutting him off with the same amount of panic. “ _It’s just one! So what? It’s just a grey hair! You have a stressful job!_ ”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” he said, starting to feel panic himself at her strained reaction. “Something tells me this has to do with more than just grey hair.”

Rapunzel finally managed a deep breath. It wasn’t exactly calming, but she felt like she was… unlocking. Like her tense muscles were relaxing enough that she could actually breathe again, could actually move, and could actually control her tone of voice.

But not her tears, as her face screwed up and the tightness in her throat warned her that she was about to cry.

Grey hair forgotten, Eugene was at her side in an instant, kneeling at her feet and looking up at her beseechingly. “Rapunzel, what did I say?” he coaxed. “What did I do? How can I fix this?” He needed to get to the bottom of her strained emotions.

“Nothing…” she mumbled, her voice catching around the lump in her throat. “You didn’t do anything…”

“But…?”

“It’s just that…” She hesitated to say it. She’d never ever wanted to compare the two of them. Hell, she’d spent the past five years actively listing the ways in which they were different! “… Gothel…” she finally managed.

At that one word, the blood drained from Eugene’s face as he realized what it was he’d done. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, Sunshine…” he breathed, and got to his feet, gathering his petite wife into his arms only to turn and sit in the chair she’d just been occupying, cradling her in his lap. “Oh, Sunshine, I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I was just doing… that thing I do…” It was a lame excuse, and he felt like an absolute heel saying it.

She turned in his embrace and pressed her face against his shoulder. “I know.” Her voice came out muffled as she spoke into his shirt, letting the fine cotton soak up her tears. “It’s not your fault. It’s never really struck me like this before. But for some reason today… today, all I could think about was her and how she’d go on and on about signs of aging before getting me to sing…” She hugged him tightly, trying to prove she wasn’t upset with him. “You’re nothing like her,” she said out loud, both for himself and for her.

“I’ve been… really inconsiderate all these years,” he admitted slowly, holding her close and rubbing her back. “Constantly going on about my looks and how stunningly gorgeous I am, freaking out about crow’s feet on my twenty-sixth birthday… Fates, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t once consider how it might make you feel.”

“Normally, I’m fine with it,” she sighed, her tears slowing as the tender hum of his voice soothed her. “I mean…” She sat up in his arms and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “At the very beginning, back when I was too scared to tell anyone when I had a problem with them, it made me feel weird. But the difference is that if you don’t like something about your appearance, _you_ change it. You use… moisturizer or whatever else. You even plucked that grey hair out. You never ever expect me to fix it for you.”

“Of course not!” he concurred. “My issues with my appearance are my problem, not yours.” Except he’d made it her problem, hadn’t he? He gave her a squeeze, trying to convey his sorrow and guilt.

“Of course they’re not my problem, because there’s nothing wrong with your appearance. Even as you get older, I’ll always love the way you look. And one grey hair is just… the grey of early afternoon. It doesn’t mean you’re old. You’re still in the prime of your life, Eugene.”

He smiled gently. The grey of early afternoon. He liked that. She was such a little poet.

“You’re right, I am,” he acknowledged.

“We both are. And we’ll both be around a long time to come. And I’ll always think you’re handsome.”

“Hey, who’s comforting who?” he ribbed gently, and was gratified to elicit a soft giggle from her. “Look, Rapunzel, I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll do my best to be more mindful in the future, and I promise to try to start… not caring so much. I’ll be a handsome devil my whole life. That doesn’t mean I have to be a handsome _young_ devil.”

“And I promise to try to not let it bother me.”

“No. Not necessary. You’ve been trying to not let it bother you for years, and this is the first time you’ve ever given me any indication that it did. You’re allowed to let it bother you. You had to deal with that for almost two decades. The last thing you need is to feel bad for being conditioned to think that way.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes and smiled.

“Alright then. I promise to help you in little ways. I promise to tell you how handsome you are, even first thing in the morning before you’ve combed your hair and shaved. I promise to celebrate fine lines and wrinkles as they appear as the badges of life you’ve earned. You can’t get old if you never get old, and I want you to get old.”

He paused, smiling softly at that, and shook his head. Leave it to Rapunzel to put a spin on it he never saw coming.

“I want to get old, too, thanks to you.”


End file.
